Shine
by Autumn-Park
Summary: Blink finds his girlfriend dead under the docks.He goes to his old friend brain of friend Specs for help, and ends up on a ramage all over NY to find out what hapenned to her.based on the movie Brick reloaded
1. Dead, actually

**A/N:So this story is based on the movie "Brick." I recently saw it on a plane and thought wow-that could be fun to rewrite for ffn! so here goes. If you've seen the movie you'll catch the parallels, if not-it'll just be fun. So the writing style is very choppy. Very abrupt. Somewhat stream of conscienous, bc that kinda how the movie was. The one thing taht bugged me was that the acting and the storyline for most of the movie was kind of one-note...and yet thats part of what makes it so fun to write. The dialogue is very quick, witty, no beating around the bush. Since theres a lot of taht i added letters the beginning of longeer dialogues line to help w/ confusion. Blink is our smooth talkin', main man. Specs is Brain (how perfect huh!) So read, review, and enjoy!**

**I do not own Newsies blahblahblah...**

_"Just do what I say. Unless you want the same fate?"_

_"No, no. It's not a problem. Just tell me when and where..."_

_"Friday. Midnight. The docks. Leave everything else ta' me. You just be ready."_

_"You got it."_

_"Oh and-"_

_"Yea?"_

_"Don't fuck it up..."_

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There she was. Just laying there. The rain was washing away the blood through the cracks between the boards. He just stood there. Unable to move. Unable to think. Drops carving new pathways onto his face. Her hair was soaked and matted onto her face, clothes clinging to her small frame. She was wearing the bracelets her gave her last summer. The Irish Festival. June 29th, 1901. They were green. The man who made them smelled like beer and cigarette smoke. Now they were chipped, wet, dead.

He slung her lifeless body over his shoulder and carried her under the abandoned docks. No one else could see her. Not like that. It wasn't fair. Not to either party. She was too beautiful to be humiliated that way. If they hadn't seen her before, then they didn't deserve to see her now. Footsteps, running away-someone had seen him...

The Next Day

"Hey Specs."

"Heya Blink."

B: "It's been what-a month ah' so?"

S: "3 actually."

B: "You hea' about Abby?"

S: "Yea. It was in the papes. Missing."

B: "Dead, actually."

S: "Heard that too. Sorry Kid."

B: "I'm gonna find out who did it."

S: "Start in the lowa' circles. Move your way up. Keep me updated."

B: "Yea..."

Blink walked towards the girl's lodging house. Pearl answered, her face red, tear stained, drained. She nodded silently and stepped out of the way to let him in.

"Can I go ta' her bunk?"

"Whatda'ya need?"

"Answers..."

She turned and led him upstairs. Opening the door slowly she let him pass, "You know which one..."

An insult? Or just reassurance? He lifted her matress and pulled out the ragged old notebook she wrote in. Half the pages had been torn out. Where were they? He flipped through the pages. The beginning...Kid Blink + Abby forever. I love Blink. Yea...those days were long passed... He flipped further. Drawings, rants, stories, an invitation...An invitation? No details. Just an adress. He tucked it in his pocket and replaced everything as it was. He walked downstairs and tipped his hat to Pearl as he went out the door.

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Irving Hall.

He stood across the street looking up at it. Second date. One of Medda's shows. SHE wasn't gonna be there that night. Perfect timing. He walked in and stood at the back of the theater. Rehersal was in progress. Medda was perfecting a new number. There she was. Row H, seat 6. Appropriate number. He sat in the row behind her.

"Blink..." her voice was low and smooth. Every word she said was laced with poison. She smiled-sort of, "Long time no see my love..." she ran her hand down the side of his face.

"With good reason, Jerica." He removed her hand.

"What brings you to my humble..."she laughed slightly, "Well, my abode?"

"Abby Collins."

Her left eye brow cocked up immediatly, "Innocent, pretty, tiny little figure. Loved her"

"Loved?"

"What ever hapenned to us, Blink?"

"You turned into a bitch, Jerica." He said, matching her tone and inflection. "Abby Collins. Talk ta me."

She laughed slightly to herself and stood,"Haven't seen her in weeks, love. She moved on long ago."

"This ain't a fuckin' play starin' you toots, give me somethin' already."

She leaned down to his ear and whispered,"Come with me, and I'll give you somethin..."

With that she sauntered away. Not walked-sauntered. She taunted him. He didn't give a shit. He got up and followed her backstage to her dressing room. She sat at her vanity and pointed to the smaller mirror in the corner.

"I let her get ready in here."

"Wow. You're just a patron saint ain't ya?"

"I do what I can..." she began to powder her face, "The gentlemen enjoyed her. She made some extra money on the side, if you follow me..."

"Cut the crap, Jerica."

"Aww...not the angel you thought she was, Blink? No one stays pure forever..."

"Yea, and some are never pure ta' begin with..."

She laughed. Like that would insult her. She applied her lipstick with such art, such seductiveness. He was getting tired of this.

"So what hapenned? Where did she go?"

"Who knows, love." She swivled around in her chair and kicked one leg up over the other side, spreading her legs on either side of the chair's back, "Who cares?"

He shook his head and started to walk out.

"Blink..." he paused, not turning around, "Anytime you need a little...comforting-you know who to come to."

"I don't sleep with whores, Jerica."

"Maybe not, but whores sleep with you..."

She turned back to her mirror. He walked out.

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**Reviieewwwwss!**


	2. Glory, Costumes, and Muscle

**A/N: I reloaded the story, but no reviews yet! IM BACK! yaaaay! it's been awhile so id really appreciate some love! Anywho heres chappy 2**

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He saw it-the invitation on Jerica's mirror. It matched the one in Abby's notebook. But where to now? The notebook.Back to Pearl he went, up the stairs, under the matress.

Names. Places. Anything, A piece of paper fell out. It was the corner of an old newspaper. There was some kind of symbol on it. Two vertical, parallel lines about an inch apart, and a horzontal line going through the two about a cenimeter from the top. What was it? Why was is in her notebook? He kept searching.

There was a dark Spot of ink drawn inside a heart drawn on one of her pages, right after all the entries on Jerica and Irving Hall. A heart w/ a spot. Spot. Spot Conlon. Brooklyn.

Over the bridge he went. Across the docks. Three guys stood in his path. Muscle. Gotta love the muscle.

"Goin' somewhea' Blink?" one of them said-not so intimidatingly.

"Conlon. Whea' is he?"

The boys all shifted their gazes up to the higher dock. There he was. Perched high in all his fucking glory. Not for long.

"Why don't you head back ta' Manhattan whea' it's safe, eh Kid?" Spot's voice sailed through the air. He was patronizing him. Blink hated that...

"Whea' is she Conlon?"

"Who?"

"Abby. What did you do to her?"

"A lot. She was good too-" he started to light a cigarette.

Before he could finish, the cigarette went flying and a fist collided with his face. He fell backwards off the dock. Blink jumped down on top of him and hit him several more times, drawing blood from Spot's nose and watching it drain all over his face. His beautiful, glorious fucking face. He kept hitting as hard as he could until-

"Alright, ALRIGHT! FUCK!" Spot yelled, wiping blood off his face, "She hasn't been with me for weeks. Find Tug.  
He'll tell you what's up."

"Tug?"

"Did I fucking stutta', Blink? Tugger. He's probably in Queens gettin' drunk off his ass. He'll still rip your guts out though, don't get to confident..."

Blink was up and walking away before he finished. He would go to Queens later. First he had to attend to some other buisness.

The adress on the invitation was a familiar one. 804 Sorenson Street. Not exactly in the "avenue" district, but it was a street that none of the newsies would likely ever find themselves on unless they were selling. Even then, only the older, more experianced newsies were sly enough to charm the rich. He knew the girl that lived there.  
Salone. The mayor's daughter. She moved out after the strike. Daddy bought her her own place to try and make ammends for her neglectful upbringing. She often rallied against him, but still could retain her "rich-bitch" attitude with ease.

He sat on a stoop across the street waiting. It was 4 p.m. She walked out and began making her way up the street. He followed her on the other side. She began to cross, unaware of his presence. He passed her by.She didn't notice. She rarely took note of street rats. He slipped into an alley. She felt someone grab her arm and pull her off the sidewalk. Not abruptly. Gently. And with that same gentleness a hand slipped over her mouth. Her back was to his front. He slowly relased his hand.

"Money?" she said calmly, almost mockingly.

B:"Answers."

S:"What do you need to know?"

B:"Your pahty ta'night."

S:"Do I know you?"

B:"Not directly."

S:"I know everyone. What's your name?"

B:"I have an invitation."

S:"Then what's the problem?"

B:"I need ta' be sure that I won't run into any trouble."

S:"What kind of trouble are you running from?"

B:"Not running from. I wanna talk ta' you."

S:"Only if you tell me who you are."

B:"I happen to have a certain person's invitation. That's what I wanna talk about ta'night."

S:"Not if you're a street rat-"

B:"Abby Collins."

She paused, "7 o'clock. Tonight. It's a costume party."

"In the summer?"

"We get bored."

He let go of her and shoved her back out into the street. She turned around. He was gone.

Specs. That's who he needed to talk to. He made his way back towards Tibby's. It was about dinner time. There he was. As usual. Sitting outside on the bench in front of the restaraunt, legs folded indian style, eating his measly dinner.

"So?" Specs asked.

"Conlon's involved." he sat next to him.

S:"Conlon's always involved."

B: "And Jerica..."

S: "Irving Hall Jerica?" Blink nodded, "Didn't' you two-"

B: "Yea." he paused, "Salone's havin' a pahty ta'night. Abby had an invite. I'm in."

S:"Stay in the shadows. Get Salone alone-just the two of ya. Other people around give's her excuses to avoid the conversation."

B:"Right. And I have ta go ta Queens ta'morrow. Some guy named Tug."

S:"Tugger Williams. Muscle. Drunkard. Real idiot."

B:"Figures. Well I betta' be off Specs..." he stood, "I got a pahty ta go to..."


End file.
